


For the King

by Erin_Leigh



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossdressing, Erotica, Gay Sex, King & Servant, M/M, Masquerade, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, from the Bottom to the Top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erin_Leigh/pseuds/Erin_Leigh
Summary: He towers over me, and I realize that I’m trapped. He’s so close I can feel his breath.He’s too close. He’s going to find out the truth.I swallow, heat rising to my cheeks. “Thank you, sir.”He smiles and holds my gaze, his icy eyes piercing straight through me.I try to understand what he’s thinking behind that mask, behind those eyes.Is he just making polite conversation? Or was he… could he possibly be… interested?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 21
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

“I think the princess of Tieradel would make a fine queen for our king,” one of the advisors says from behind a closed door, and the others mutter their agreement.

I hover at the door, my chest tight, unable to breathe.

I’m not ready for him to take a queen.

I’m not ready to watch him touch and love a woman.

I’m not ready to know that he will never look at me, a servant—a man.

The autumn festival is soon, and the night is always capped off with a masquerade ball. So I save and scrape together everything I can for a mask and a gown to hide both my identity and my body.

I don’t expect him to recognize me, even though I deliver his breakfast and afternoon tea most days. It’s the other servants I worry about.

Because tonight, I will try to woo the king on the one night when he can walk among commoners.

The only night I’ll ever be able to ask him to dance, to feel his hands on me. It’s all I can hope for, to know his touch before he is betrothed.

I don’t know if it will work, but I have to at least say I tried.

It’s not hard to spot him among the crowd. Others may be fooled by a mask and a cheap suit, but I know my king.

Alain has been the man I’ve loved for years.

If I couldn’t recognize his jawline or the way his lips move as he speaks, then no one could.

I take a deep breath and make my way toward where he sips his wine, trying not to stand out.

I clear my throat, and he looks up from his glass. The red seems to have gone to his cheeks, but that could just be the lighting.

“Hello,” he says in a voice that he’s forced to be a little deeper than his own.

“Excuse me,” I say with a demure bow of my head. I have always had a soft voice for a man, and the rouge on my lips helps add to the illusion. “I can’t help but notice you appear unaccompanied, sir.”

He nods and smiles. “Yes. I was waiting for someone, but they haven’t arrived yet.”

I incline my head. “Is that so? Would you mind if I waited with you, then?”

“By all means,” he says with a small wave of his hand.

I have always loved how the annual masquerade ball allows Alain to just be a normal person for one night.

If this would ever work, I had to give it my all. Unfortunately, I have never been one for witty banter. “Lovely party, isn’t it?”

“If you like these things,” he says and smiles. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”

It would be rude to refuse, so I nod. He pours a second glass and hands it to me. I take a sip, and it’s the fanciest thing I’ve ever tasted.

I imagine, for a moment, what life would be like if we were equals every day of the year. Would I still be too shy to approach him?

I incline my head. “Thank you.”

He nods and smiles again, though this one seems a bit forced. “So, what brings you to the ball?”

I laugh. “I suppose I was brought by the possibility of being able to be anyone for the night.”

He inclines his head, and I can tell he’s thinking deeply. His brow gets a little crease when he does. “I suppose I was too,” he finally says. “May I have this dance?”

I could never refuse him anything.

“Let’s,” I reply, a little breathless.

I have never danced before, and it shows. But he shows great patience, guiding me through the steps. By the third song, I can’t decide what excites me more: the warmth of his hands, the softness in his eyes, or the fact that I could dance without stumbling.

We break apart to rest, and his attention is taken by someone else. I stand there, fidgeting with the lace of my sleeves, hesitating.

I got what I came for.

He touched me. I danced with him. We looked into each other’s eyes.

I should be satisfied, but…

My feet can only turn me away before they freeze.

I just want more, now.

“You look lovely tonight.”

I turn to face him to see who he’s speaking to and wish I hadn’t.

He towers over me, and I realize that I’m trapped. He’s so close I can feel his breath.

He’s too close. He’s going to find out the truth.

I swallow, heat rising to my cheeks. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiles and holds my gaze, his icy eyes piercing straight through me.

I try to understand what he’s thinking behind that mask, behind those eyes.

Is he just making polite conversation? Or was he… could he possibly be… interested?

I smile and try to force myself to look away, but the turn of my head draws his attention down from my face. I gasp as he dips his head to kiss my collarbone.

Despite my mind telling me to run, my hand raises to touch the back of his neck. “Sir, I… We’re in public…”

His lips curve against my skin. “Does it matter?”

I bite my lip and don’t respond.

He kisses up my neck to my jaw, and I shiver as his lips touch my ear. “Does it matter?” he asks again, this time in a murmur.

“No,” I admit.

He grins and kisses me on the mouth then, so quickly I can’t react. “Good girl.”

My knees are weak and I want more of his touch. More of his kisses. More of him. 

“I… I have to go,” I manage to say.

I don’t want to. But if I didn’t leave and he found out I was a man, I wasn’t certain my heart could handle the disgust on his face.

I turn, my eyes burning with tears I shouldn’t be shedding. Not here. Not now. I run from the room before he can see me cry and don’t stop until I’m outside.

The cool air burns as I take a gasping breath. I cover my mouth with a hand and try to calm my racing heart.

I stand in the garden, my dress illuminated by soft moonlight, and I weep.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Noah.

What were you thinking?

I should have known better.

I lean against the stone wall and let the waves of emotion have their way with me.

It’s only after my tears had dried that I realize my greatest mistake of all.

I had nowhere to go, not like this. I couldn’t go back into the ballroom and risk running into him. And I can’t take the servants’ entrance in this dress.

I look down at it and whisper an apology before I begin to tear it apart.

First, the long, tight sleeves.

Next the bodice.

Then the extra layers.

Finally, I’m left in loose breeches and a too-long, ill-fitting tunic. I sigh and turn to head for the servants’ door. I hurry through the halls, keeping my head low and trying to avoid running into anyone else.

I head to my room and quickly throw the tattered remains of my dress into the corner.

I feel like I’m going to vomit.

No one saw me.

No one knows.

I’m fine.

I slide into bed and don’t move for the rest of the night. It’s easily one of the longest nights of my life.

The morning bells chime, and I start to get dressed for the day.

I survived. Now, I just need to survive the consequences of my actions. I just pray that the king will not recall a single maiden among so many others that vied for his attention.

My hands shake as I prepare his morning tea. The guard lets me into his chambers and, as I set the tray down next to his bed, I bow my head. “Good morning, your Majesty.”

He yawns and sits up. I wait for dismissal, but he just stares at the far wall as he sips the tea slowly, thoughtfully.

Finally, he looks at me. “Do you think I’m a horrible man?”

“What?” I stand up straight. “No! Of course not!”

He’s quiet for a time. “I’m not so sure anymore,” he says softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

I quickly shake my head. “Your Majesty, there has never been a better king than you.”

He turns to look at me, an eyebrow cocked. “Do you really believe that?” His voice lowers as he adds, “Even after yesterday?”

I feel the blood drain from me as the rest of me wants to flee. I stammer, “Yes-Yesterday?”

He watches my face for a moment, his own unreadable. “Is it that you like dressing up as a girl? Or was it merely a game? A laugh at my expense?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out.

Then, his eyes soften. “Or, perhaps, were you sincere?”

“I… I’m not sure how to answer that,” I finally get out.

The softness is gone just as quickly as it came. “If you want to leave, then do so now.”

Something tells me that no matter how much I want to run away, that would be the wrong choice. He had caught me. I would be punished. I deserve it.

So I stand there, head bowed in deference.

But then he says, “Take off your clothes.”

I look up to see him standing in front of me, one eyebrow raised. I don’t have the right to question him, so I quickly shed my clothes, fold them, and set them aside neatly.

Alain undresses with less care, tossing his clothes onto the floor haphazardly.

I don’t dare question him and just wait for the next instruction.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me over to the bed. Before I realize what he’s doing, his lips are on mine. I have no idea what to do. I just sit there and let him slowly push me down as his thumb rubs against my cheek.

The hand moves down, trailing along my chest, my stomach, and to my thighs. He leans in, and I feel his tongue move down my neck, then back up to my ear.

“Do you like how I’m touching you?” he whispers.

“Y-Yes,” I gasp out.

“Good.” He kisses me again, and I shiver against him as he begins to slowly work my member with one firm hand.

He rubs along the base, then slides up to the tip, pressing his thumb under the tip in a light circle. Then he begins to to move his hand faster, his grip tighter, and I can’t help myself.

I close my eyes and just give in.

When I try to kiss him back, his touch grows more insistent. His other hand grips my thigh and pushes my legs apart, then he moves to fill the space.

I must be dreaming.

This can’t be happening.

And yet, it is.

He runs his tongue along my neck, then bites down gently while he grabs my wrist and pulls my hand to his groin. I know what he wants, and I want it, too. I’m scared of how much I want it.

His skin is hot against my palm. Is he really this hard just because of me?

I want to believe it is.

I choose to believe it is.

He bites his lips, closing his eyes as his hips move slowly in time with my strokes. Then his fingers press to my lips, and I realize it’s the same hand that had been touching me.

I part my lips, and tentatively take the thumb between my teeth as my tongue runs along it. He groans, and the sound is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard.

I want more of it.

I close my mouth around the digit and suck while my hand slides up and down his length in short, erratic jerks.

He pulls his hand away and climbs on top of me. I never dared to imagine this, to fantasize this far. I feel like I could finish just from the sensation of his skin on mine.

He kisses me briefly, then begins to work his way down my body, kissing and licking as he goes.

He rubs his cheek against my inner thigh while his eyes lift to meet mine. “May I taste you?”

There is no way I can answer that. I don’t have the right to say yes.

He opens his mouth and I tremble as the warmth of it envelopes my member. My hands clench the sheets as I fight the urge to tangle them in his hair. There’s tongue and suction, and it’s all too much.

“I—” I try to warn him, but it’s too late.

To my utter embarrassment and shock, he doesn’t pull off. Instead, he hums in pleasure and swallows.

The king just swallowed my seed.

And now he’s pulling off, licking his lips, and smiling at me. “There we are.” He crawls back up my body and takes my wrist in one hand.

He brings my arm up and bites down on it. I yelp as he begins sucking hard, as if he means to leave a bruise. Then he moves to the other arm to repeat the process, before he looks up at me.

“I should’ve done this long ago,” he murmurs, and then snakes his arms around my middle.

I don’t know how to respond. Would anyone, if they were in my place? I just embrace him, which seems to be enough, because he tightens his grip on me.

I start to cry.

I’m not sure why, other than I’m just so overwhelmed. Years of longing, and now it’s finally happening, and I’m so happy that I can’t keep the feeling inside.

He looks understandably confused. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did I hurt you?”

“You happened,” I whisper. “You make me so happy.”

He raises an eyebrow, but smiles nonetheless.

I take a deep breath in and shift beneath him, pressing my thighs against his sides. “Your Majesty… I know I don’t have the right to ask this, but…” I choke on a soft sob.

My heart breaks a little bit further. I know the negotiations for his betrothal are underway, but it won’t be long before he’ll have a queen.

I don’t want to be so close and lose it all now.

He looks down at me in surprise before he smiles. “You don’t have to beg. If this is what you want, then I’m more than willing to give it to you.”

I say nothing, the tender words only making it harder to bear. I kiss him and he moves his groin against mine. The feeling of his manhood against my body makes me moan in pleasure.

“Do you want me to be on top?” he asks softly.

Was there any other option? He seems to be waiting for an answer, though, so I nod. His hands slide down to hold my hips still as a blunt force presses against a place that had never been touched this way before.

It’s a slow slide inside, agonizingly so, and I can’t discern the pain from the pleasure as he finally bottoms out. He thrusts gently at first, just a little shift back and forth. I don’t know how he can tell, but the moment the pain is replaced by need, he pulls further out and shoves back in.

Bliss shoots from my fingers to my toes and I beg, “More, please!”

He compiles, speeding up and pushing back in with a hard snap of his hips. My nails dig into his back as we move together, our bodies falling into a rhythm. I feel myself falling toward something, my senses wrapped completely around the feeling of him moving inside me.

“Alain,” I cry out, delirious and lost.

“I know, my love,” he grunts in response. “I know.”

I break.

_ ‘My love,’ _ he called me.

I know it was just the heat of the moment. No man could keep his head clear when he was in the throes of passion. I hold him close so he can’t see my face as I fall apart, tears falling down in broken streams.

Even when he takes a queen, I’ll have this moment. This moment where he called me his love.

Nothing could ever take it away.

And then, as we fall over the edge… the moment is over.

Alain collapses on top of me, both of our breathing erratic. He places a soft kiss on my chest and whispers, “That was amazing.”

I make a small sound of agreement, keeping my face ducked and out of his view. The pain in my chest is nearly overwhelming.

I should never have done this.

Now I knew what it was like to touch and be touched, and I didn’t want to live without it.

I rest my head against his chest, keeping my face ducked. I couldn’t let him see me cry.

He rested quietly, his pulse beating steadily in my ear.

I roll over, pressing my lips against his in one last kiss. His eyes widen in shock, but he gently returns it. I slowly pull away, resting my head against his chest once more.

I can’t stay here.

I listen to his heartbeat until it slows and evens out. Hoping he’s asleep, I slowly untangle myself from his arms and move to get up.

“Where are you going?”

I bite my lower lip as I get dressed. “I… have duties to attend, your Majesty.”

I hear the rustle of sheets as he sits up. I keep my back to him. He can’t see how much this is tearing me up inside.

“Stay here,” he says, his voice just above a whisper.

I don’t reply. I simply slip out of the room and shut the door behind me.

I walk through the hallways, not paying attention to where I’m going. I run into a servant and mumble an apology before continuing on my way.

I don’t know where I’m going. I just know that I have to leave.

I exit the palace and don’t stop walking.

Keep it together, I tell myself. I can get through this.

All I have to do is not look back.


	2. Chapter 2

I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking, but the castle is obscured behind rolling hills and my legs are threatening to give out.

I eventually see a farm along the road ahead of me. There’s an old man tilling fields by himself, and I stand at the fence and wave to him. “Hail and well met!” I call.

The man returns the wave and comes over, sweat falling over his wrinkled face. “And to you as well, sir.”

I clasp my hands behind my back. “Do you have any need for a farmhand? I’m good with housework, but I can take on any work you need done on the farm. I can sleep in the barn, I really don’t mind. I just…” I smile, sadly. “I have nowhere else to go.”

The man looks me over. I must seem rather pathetic to him; I’ve never done hard labor, and my body shows it.

Finally, he smiles. “I could use the help, for sure. Can you milk a cow?”

“I’ve never tried, but I’m willing to learn.”

He nods and gestures for me to follow him.

I resolve myself to begin this new life, and to keep the memories of the king deep in my head. In a way, he would always be inside me.

I hold that warmth close as I fall asleep that night in the barn loft, surrounded by the stench of animal and hay.

I’ll be fine. I know I will.

I just wished I could stop the tears as I remember the way he held me, the way he called me his love. The way, for a moment, I’d almost believed it could be true.

I roll over and try to find sleep.

In the morning, I ache all over as I climb down from the loft. There is a washing basin outside, so I strip down to my underthings and sit on the small stool to bathe myself. The water is frigid, the cloth is rough, and I don’t really feel like I’m getting any cleaner.

The water at the castle was warm.

I groan and lean forward, dunking my head in the freezing water to chase away the thoughts.

Once I’m as satisfied as I’m going to be with my new standard of cleanliness, I dress in my breeches and shirt. I pull on the heavy boots the old man found in the attic for me, grab a pail, and trudge out into the fields. The sun has barely risen, and I see Cliff—the old farmer—already hard at work tilling soil.

He waves, and I wave back with a smile I don’t feel. The fields are surprisingly vast, a good several acres, and the cows don’t seem inclined to to cluster together in one location today. It takes most of the morning to track each one down and milk them.

I can already feel the sun bearing down on my uncovered head. My fingers burn from pinching and pulling on cow’s teats. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of labor. I’d never felt so weak and delicate in my life.

I had to get stronger.

Lunch is a hearty portion of bread, cheese, and some kind of stew. I didn’t ask what was in it because I had no idea, and I’d rather stay that way. I knew so little about the lives of commoners.

It takes most of the day, but I finish the milking before the sun goes down. Cliff comes over to where I’ve collapsed in the shade and takes a seat beside me.

“So, boy, what’s your story?” he asks as he chews on some dried meat.

I prop myself up on my elbows and look at the world in front of us, hills and forests and a sky of pale orange and pink.

“I… I had to get away,” I say, then snap my head to look at him. “Not because I’m a criminal, though! It’s nothing like that!”

Cliff laughs, the sound deep and raspy. “You’ll not get any judgment from me.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I’m no saint.”

I relax and lay back down to stare up at the sky as it slowly darkens. “If I’d stayed home, I’d have to watch as the person I love married someone else.”

The old man makes a sympathetic sound and nods. “Aye, that’d do it. I was going to ask if whatever you were running from was worth the hard labor, but…” He sighs. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

He scratches his chin, his fingernails scraping against the white stubble that covers most of his jaw. Then he continues, “Not that it’s any of my business, but if you want to talk… It helps, sometimes. Shares the burden.”

I don’t say anything more, and he doesn’t ask. We just sit in a companionable silence until he stands and brushes off his trousers.

“Let’s see about some dinner,” he says and turns away without another word.

He never asks again.

I’m grateful, really. I can almost forget about my previous life. Each day is filled with milking cows, feeding pigs, baling hay, and doing more and more of the heavy lifting as I grow stronger.

My skin has taken on several shades, as if I’ve spent my entire life under the sun rather than just a few years. My hands grow rough and calloused, and all of me is bigger. Stronger. Before, I had to wrestle and plead with the smallest of the pigs to go into her pen, but now I can lift even the heaviest hog on the farm.

I am strong, and yet inside, I still feel weak sometimes, especially when I’m alone at night with nothing but memories.

But even that pain fades with time.

I keep moving forward.

Until one day, Cliff doesn’t emerge from the house. I wait until the sun has fully risen before I walk into the house, trepidation tight in my chest.

“Cliff?” I call.

No response.

I go to the door to his bedroom and knock. “Cliff, are you all right?”

There’s a choking, pained noise from behind the door, before a weak, raspy voice calls out, “Come in, Noah…”

I open it slowly, as if that might change the outcome of what’s on the other side. Cliff is lying in his bed, and he looks as unwell as he sounded.

He smiles, more with his eyes than anything else. “I think it’s about my time,” he says with a wheezing cough. “I’d like to ask a favor.”

My knees tremble as I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed. “Anything.”

“I’ve got no family. No wife, no kids.” His hand reaches out and rests on top of mine. “You’re the closest I’ve got to a son. I don’t want to leave you with the same burden I bore because I was too stubborn to settle down… Find someone, and live an easier life than I did.” His lips crack a lopsided grin. “If you have a son of your own, Cliff is a good, strong name.”

I give a strange sound that’s trapped between a laugh and a sob. “It’s a great name.”

His hand squeezes mine before he pulls it back under the covers. “Go on, son. I’m not gonna die right now. The autumn festival’s today, innit? Go. The farm’ll keep for a day.” He looks at me with soft eyes. “Maybe you’ll meet someone, and I can meet them before I’m gone.”

My chest grows tight and I shake my head. “I’m not going to leave you like this to go to a ball.”

He gives me a squinty-eyed stare. “You’re going to let an old man die without even trying to fulfill his last wish?”

“But—”

“I see, I see. No respect for your elders.” He turns his head on the pillow, but I can still see the corner of his smile. “Do you know if the lass you loved ever married?”

I feel the floor fall away from beneath me, and I’m grateful that I’m already sitting down. I don’t respond at first, trying to work through the competing thoughts in my head.

What would Cliff think if he knew the truth? That it was a man, that it was the king, that I’d slept with him? The weight of my shame and regret is heavy, but the thought of Cliff’s last thoughts of me being ones of disgust and rejection is suffocating.

The silence speaks for me, and he looks at me again. I realize in that moment just how much he’s aged since we met. The lines in his face could tell a hundred stories or more.

“What’s the matter, son?” he asks, and the sincerity in his voice breaks my resolve.

I look down at the quilted comforter on the bed as I admit, “I never heard that he took a wife.”

There’s a small grunt, followed by a chuckle. “So no son named Cliff, then.”

I hesitantly look up to see a fond smile on his face, and I can’t help but smile back. “Not likely.”

“Ah, well.” He settles back against the pillow and closes his eyes. “Makes you wonder, though.”

“Wonder what?” I ask.

“When I took you in, you said you had to leave because he was going to get married.” His lips curl slightly. “But he didn’t get married after all. Wonder why.”

I didn’t know what to say.

There’d never been any announcement of the king’s betrothal or marriage, and that was the sort of thing that would have spread to every corner of the kingdom.

I’d never let myself think about it too long, because I’d stopped looking back years ago. There could have been any number of reasons. Maybe he was waiting for the most advantageous political ally to have a suitable bride.

But there was that thought that sometimes came to me at night.

That awful thought that always started with _what if_. The most dangerous two words I’ve ever known. As each year passed and he still didn’t take a queen, those words got just a little bit louder.

_ What if he was waiting for me? _

“Do you think he’d be at the ball?” Cliff asks into the silence that had settled between us.

A small huff of laughter escapes me. “He attends every year.”

“Mm.” He nods. “Then you best get to town and buy a nice suit.” Before I can argue, he adds, “I’ll be here when you get back, boy. I’m not leaving before I know you’re taken care of.”

I can’t argue with a dying man’s wish. Not when that little voice asks  _ what if _ now that I can’t ignore it.

“Okay,” I say, and stand. “All right. I’ll go, but I can’t make any promises.”

He chuckles, but the sound is cut off by a cough. He waves a hand and manages, “Go on. I’m fine.”

I hesitate before I lean down to kiss his temple, then leave to head into town.

I have to prepare to attend the autumn ball. Nostalgia wants me to buy a gown, but I’m not soft and delicate as I was then.

So this time, I’ll attend as a man.

I find a pair of fine trousers and a white linen shirt at the local clothier, and a last-minute mask that was still left over. It is plain and simple, with only a small embellishment.

I don’t mind, really. He’d never recognize me anymore, with or without a mask.

The palace is as grand as I remember. People marvel at the statues and paintings, but I continue through the large foyer and into the main hall. Everything is so familiar and so foreign. It’s almost as if I’ve stepped into a dream.

There are dancers moving with grace and poise to the sound of violins and cellos and other string instruments I’ve forgotten the names of. I move along the edge of the room, looking at each couple, but my king isn’t among them.

Then, I see him, standing at the buffet table just like he had years ago. I’d almost think I was imagining a memory, but he’s changed just as much as I have.

His jaw is covered by a short beard that is peppered with age, and his hair is longer, still dark but now with a single streak of grey along one side.

I shouldn’t know him anymore. And yet nothing within me doubts that it’s Alain.

I want to approach him, but I keep my distance for now. I tell myself that I’ll leave soon. I’ve seen him, he looks well, and that’s that. I can tell Cliff something that’s neither the truth nor a lie, and then I’ll find someone to marry and have a son to name after him.

It’s a much more plausible future than, what, that the king has loved me all along, we’d get married, and live happily ever after?

I sigh and turn to leave. It is time to let go, once and for all.

But I don’t find myself back in the foyer. I must have taken a wrong turn. I try to backtrack, and only find myself lost deeper within the castle.

Somehow, I’ve forgotten the halls that I used to navigate without thought.

I sigh, slumping down on the floor next to a statue. I need to get out of here before someone sees me and questions why I’m here. But it’s hard to breathe all of a sudden.

All I can think about is how he’s still so handsome. And from what I know, he’s still just as kind and beloved by all the people. Gods above and below, how am I going to move on?

Someone clears their throat, and I jolt. Then I see who it is, and I jump to my feet.

Alain.

Right in front of me.

My breath catches and I struggle to remind myself that there’s no way he could recognize me. I’m darker, stronger, rougher. I look every bit the dirt-born farmer I’ve become, not the soft and meek little servant he’d taken like a maiden.

“You seem to be lost,” he says. The timbre of his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

“Yes. I.” I swallow and try not to panic. “I took a wrong turn. Got lost.”

There is a pause before he nods. “It happens.” His eyes shimmer behind his mask as he smiles. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

I manage some semblance of a smile in return. “I’m just a farmer, your Majesty.”

His brow shoots up toward his hairline. “You think I’m the king?”

My mouth flaps open and closed several times and I make some kind of strangled sound. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, but I definitely don’t say anything at all.

“Ah, I suppose it’s foolish to think a mask can really hide who I am.” He chuckles softly.

I feel weak at the sound.

I want to kiss him.

I want to run away.

I want to break down and cry.

“How have the crops been this year?” he asks. “I’ve heard we’re expecting a good harvest.”

Ah, yes. Of course he would never recognize me. I was just one servant among so many. He’d probably taken them all over the years. Perhaps that is why he was unwed: he had a voracious appetite for naïve young men.

“Yes, your Majesty,” I reply, unable to keep the quiver out of my voice. “The harvest should be particularly bountiful this year.”

He smiles and laughs a little.

I clench my hands into tight fists, digging my nails into my palms. “I should not take up your Majesty’s time when there is a ball to attend.” I bow. It’s one thing that’s not been forgotten; my body remembers exactly how to bend appropriately low. “Please excuse me, your Majesty.”

I can’t resist stealing one last glance, and his expression is thoughtful.

“Wait,” he says, and I freeze in place.

Please don’t recognize me.

Please recognize me.

After a pause, he asks, “What is your name?”

I freeze. I can’t remember. Did he know my name? How common is my name? My brain is just noise as a thousand questions crashed together all at once without an answer in sight.

His brow arches. “I asked you a question. Speak up.”

I blurt out the first name that comes to mind. “Cliff, sir.”

“Cliff,” he mutters, as if tasting it like wine. “I do not know any young farmers with the name Cliff.”

My heart aches and I force a smile. “Of course not, your Majesty. I wouldn’t expect you to know the name of every farmer in your kingdom.”

“You would be surprised.” He holds my eyes with his own, and there is something a bit too piercing about his gaze. “I know of very many people within my kingdom.”

I feel my resolve start to crumble.

_ What if. _

The words scream, clawing at my skull, trying to escape.

“I, uh…”

_ What if... _

“The...”

_ What if? _

“The ball, your Majesty,” I finally say in a small voice. “People must be wondering where you are.”

He smiles a bit. My heart pounds in my chest. I don’t know what I want, and it terrifies me.

“True. Please, then.” He extends the crook of his elbow. “Escort me to the ball. I would like to dance with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Well?” he asks, a bit of a dangerous edge to his voice.

“I, ah.” I tentatively put my hand on his arm, and flush when his hand covers mine. “Of course, your Majesty.”

As we walk through the halls of the palace, I feel like the whole world is watching. I can feel my face getting hotter with every step, and I’m sure I look like a perfect fool.

Running my tongue over my dry lips, I try to think of something to say.

“That’s quite the gown you’re wearing,” he mutters.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” I reply sheepishly. Then I stop in my tracks and look down at myself. “I mean—what? I’m not wearing a gown.”

His eyes travel up and down my body, and it’s almost as if I can feel them reaching the skin beneath my clothes. “Well, you’re not now.”

My stomach twists on itself and I stare at him, eyes wide and heart pounding.

_ What if. _

He doesn’t say anything else, but I think I see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards into a smile.

_ What if? _

I give up.

I can’t fight it.

I don’t understand it, but I stop pretending. As we step onto the ballroom floor and one of his hands slides around my waist, I look up at him and whisper, “How did you possibly recognize me?”

He smiles and sends me into an unexpected twirl before he pulls me back to him. He leans in close to my ear, his lips brushing against it as he replies, “Your eyes are the same.”

The room goes blurry with tears I thought had long since dried up. I forget there is a room of people around us. In that moment, there is only the two of us.

“I…” I take a deep breath. “I have so many questions.”

He shakes his head, just the slightest movement. “It’s enough for me that you’re here now. I’ve been lonely for far too long.”

And somehow, that is all the answer I need.

I lean up and press my lips gently to his, and let the tears fall. There is a sadness and a longing in the way he holds me closer to him, the way his lips move against mine.

As he pulls away, I look up at him, smiling through my tears. He gives a sad smile in return, though his eyes are bright.

“Come,” he says as he straightens up and holds my hand tight. “Let’s take our leave.”

I almost laugh when he takes off at a brisk pace, but I keep up with him easily, not stumbling over my own feet like the little lamb I had once been.

Now, I walked beside him. It was surreal. I expected to wake up at any moment now.

He stops once the noise of the party fades away and pulls me into an alcove in the hall. He cradles my face in his hands, and I marvel at how soft his skin is.

“You look well,” he says in a low voice. “I was worried for nothing, it seems.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand. I—I was just a servant, your Majesty. I abandoned my king. Why would you worry about me?”

His brow furrows, little creases forming along his forehead. “Why would I not worry about the man I love?”

I stare at him for a moment as my breath is stolen. I slowly reach up a trembling hand to touch his cheek. “You mean, you… genuinely…” I choke as the tears return. “I thought… I never knew. I was so scared. I knew your council was seeking a queen for you to wed, and I—I couldn’t watch.”

He turns his face into my hand and kisses my palm, closing his eyes. “My beautiful boy, I’m so sorry.” He sighs and opens his eyes to look back at me. They’re shining with tears.

I choke on a laugh. “I’m hardly beautiful anymore.”

He frowns. “Don’t be so dramatic.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You’re different, but no less beautiful to me.”

I stand there, trying to process it all.

I had left for nothing. I could have had him all along.

But… could I have, really? I felt too much duty to my role, too much deference for him.

Now, I found it hard to feel subservient to anyone. He was still the king, of course, but I didn’t fear that fact like I used to.

I wasn’t scared anymore.

I lunge forward and capture his lips in mine. He stands shock still for a moment, then pulls me into a tight embrace and murmurs something unintelligible. His hands roam my back while I lift mine to push our masks off, needing to get just that little bit closer.

I couldn’t get close enough. And judging by how tight his grip on me was, he couldn’t, either.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I move to kiss his cheeks.

“Why?”

I kiss the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. “For leaving.”

“I understand why you did,” he says, bringing his hands up to hold onto mine. “I should have been more clear. I just assumed you knew.”

I squeeze his hands. “I had no idea.”

He presses soft kisses to my knuckles. “It’s in the past.” He pauses, then asks softly, “You will stay this time, won’t you?”

I almost say yes without hesitation, but I think of Cliff and the farm before I can speak. Alain lets go of my hands and looks away.

He clears his throat. “Ah. Of course, my apologies. You must have a whole life by now.”

“I—” I grab his face and force him to meet my eyes. “It’s not that. It’s just. I only came here because of Cliff. He’s… He’s not well, and he wants me to settle down with someone, and…”

Alain’s eyes search mine with a vulnerable look. “Cliff is your lover?”

I can’t help it. I choke, snort, and laugh all at once, making a horrible sound. “Gods, no. He’s like a father to me. I’ve been working on his farm since I left.”

Relief is clear on his face as he lets out a small breath. “I see. So you want to return to the farm?”

“I don’t know.” I bite my lower lip. “I don’t want to abandon it. It’s become a part of me, and—”

“Then don’t.” He smiles softly, kissing my temple. “I don’t need you by my side at all times.” The smile becomes a small, playful grin. “After all, I survived years. Surely you can break away from the farm more often than that for me.”

I can’t say anything at first. It’s all too much.

It wasn’t a matter of what if anymore.

My king loved me.

“Okay,” I say, and lean in to kiss him. “There’s just one catch.”

His brow raises, waiting.

“Cliff will want to meet you.”

“Is that all?” He laughs and wraps his arms around my waist. “As you wish. Anything else I should know?”

I feign a long, thoughtful pause. Then I move closer, our lips almost touching but not quite. “I never stopped thinking about that night.”

His breath hitches and his eyes close before they reopen, half-lidded but full of desire. “Will you stay here tonight?” he asks in a low voice.

I answer by closing the minute distance between us. As he deepens the kiss with a small incline of his head, my hands wander the expanse of his back.

He seems so delicate to me now. I’d had this image in my head of how strong and broad he was, but the reality was much different.

The realization stirs something inside me that had never awoken before.

But before I can try to put the feeling to words, Alain pulls back and looks up at me. “Can we—” He pauses, and is silent a moment as he seems to steel himself. Then, he blurts out in one quick sentence, “I want you to be the one who takes me, this time, please.”

His mouth is set in a firm line, as if bracing for rejection.

The old me would never have dared to even think it, much less say yes.

It’s well past time to let go of the old me.

I feel myself grinning like a madman. “Are you sure?”

His face goes slack with surprise. Then, he grins, too. “Yes.” He grabs my face and pulls me down into another kiss. “Gods, yes. I want this.”

Any reservation I might have had is gone. I drag my hands down his arms, my palms rough and calloused against his soft skin. Then I grab him around the middle and lift him with an ease that almost surprises even myself, but I’ve carried newborn calves heavier than this man.

He shudders against me. “You’re stronger than I remember.”

I don’t care that he is the king. I don’t care that we’re in a hallway. I press him up against the wall, his legs around my waist, and I take his mouth, hard and rough.

He breaks away from the kiss and looks at me with wide eyes. “Here?”

I grab his rear with both hands and squeeze. “Is this not your castle, my lord?”

A smile spreads across his face. “I suppose it is.”

I pin him between my body and the wall, and it’s not clear which is harder. As I free him from his trousers, I kiss and bite at his neck, and take him in hand.

He rocks as best he can in his trapped position, our heavy breathing echoing in the empty hall. My other hand slides his trousers down a little further, just enough to reach around and slip a finger inside him. I push in and out in rhythm with my strokes on his member, and I moan against his skin when I feel his tip dripping onto my fingers.

I push my finger in deep, then rub hard against the spot I find that makes his whole body shiver. He lets out a shuddering breath and squirms, gripping my arms tight.

I can feel him getting closer, so I slow my pace down. I want to enjoy this for as long as I can.

I never want to think _what if_ ever again.

“Please,” he whispers.

He arches his back, trying to force himself onto my fingers as I start to slide a second in. His face is contorted in an expression of pleasure and desperation.

I bite down on his neck, then move my head up to whisper into his ear, “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please,” he repeats, his hips rolling in a restricted attempt for more.

“Please, what?”

He turns his head to look me in the eyes, and something about the desperation in his gaze sets my heart racing. “Please!” His voice cracks. “I want it. I want you.”

I smile and kiss along his jaw as I withdraw my fingers and hold his hips in both hands. His body is wracked by shivers as I slide into him, and my legs shake as they fight against the weight of my emotions.

They find their strength again, and just in time, because he’s started to rock his hips, just as needy as I am. I tighten my grip on his hips and meet his movement with a tentative thrust, and the moan it elicits from him drives me harder, faster.

At first, I think I hear footsteps. I can’t will myself to stop or even slow down, but it doesn’t matter; I realize that it’s the sound of skin slapping skin bouncing off the walls.

If anyone got even close to our location, they’d hear us.

And for some reason, that’s almost as thrilling as everything else that’s happening right now.

I lean in and kiss him, and he returns it with a fever that’s almost alarming.

Sweat drips from my chin and onto his shirt. I wish he was naked, so I could worship his skin, but I settle for his neck and jaw.

I love the sounds he’s making, and I shift my stance to slam into him as hard as I dare, as hard as I can. He’s groaning desperately as he tries to match the pace. I can feel him clench around me and the way his balls tighten, and I look down just in time to see his release.

I’d be mesmerized by the sight if I weren’t sent over the edge by it, the sheer pleasure overwhelming my senses and forcing my eyes to clench shut.

With my forehead against his, we pant against each other’s lips, not quite kissing but something just as intimate.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking a bit.

He gives a startled huff. “Sorry?”

“I wanted—“ I pause to try to catch my breath. “To last longer."

He pulls my head toward him and laughs as he kisses one cheek, then the other. “I’m sure we’ll get better the more we try.” He smiles, his eyes just a bit mischievous. “I plan for us to try at every opportunity available.”

I grunt and use what remains of my quickly fading strength to carefully take his weight into my arms. I carry him to his bedroom and gently lay him down on the bed. As I move back, his hand flies toward mine and holds on tight.

“Don’t leave,” he says with a crack of despair in his voice. “Not again.”

I quickly close the distance between us and kiss his cheek. “I’m not leaving this time. I was just going to shut the door.”

“The door?” He wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me down, then shifts to press his weight against my chest and shoulders. “Damn the door. You just took me in a hallway. Stay.”

I laugh softly and pull the sheets over us as I shift to get more comfortable, one arm around his middle. “Okay. Damn the door.”

He holds onto me as if he’ll never let go. Maybe he won’t.

“Just so we’re clear,” he says, his chest vibrating with the low rumble of his voice. “I love you.”

My heart tightens at the words, and I kiss the top of his head. “I love you, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

I can’t move. If I do, I don’t just risk waking Alain, but I guarantee it. Our arms are wrapped around each other, and one of his legs is nestled between mine.

I try not to breathe with his face so close to mine. I can see every detail, every little line. I knew of the freckles over the bridge of his nose, but there’s a small scar on his chin I don’t recognize.

How did it get there? And how long ago had the streak of grey grown in? Had it been all at once, or did it grow in slowly, like a light dusting on the first chill of winter?

So much has changed. Deep down, I wonder if too much has changed.

There is a startled gasp from across the room, followed quickly by the clattering of metal against the floor.

I jolt upright, and Alain follows right behind me. We see a servant standing at the threshold, hands clasped over his mouth, serving tray and tea dropped at his feet.

My blood runs cold and I look at the king, uncertain, a little afraid. Yes, in the heat of last night, he had seemed fine to be seen with me. But this is the morning after, and I don’t know if his feelings have changed in the light of day.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” the servant quickly says. “I—I thought you were here by yourself. I’ll go.”

Alain gives what I can only interpret at a reassuring nod and says to the servant, “That will be all.”

The servant looks relieved, bows, and shuts the door behind him as he hurries out of the room.

There is a quiet moment before I break the silence, prompting, “So…”

Alain stands and turns his back to me. “We should leave.” He only allows a moment to pass, long enough for my fears to rise, before he looks over his shoulder and says with a smile, “You have a farm to show me.”

I sit up straight. “What, now?”

He chuckles and stretches his arms over his head. “Yes, right now.”

I hesitate. As much as I want to see Cliff, I’m admittedly still trying to wrap my head around everything that’s happened.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to here?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I can set them aside for the morning. This is more important right now.”

I find my hands trembling as I put my clothes on, and I can’t help but glance at him occasionally. I keep waiting to wake up, or for him to laugh it all off as a joke, or… or anything else than all of this being real.

As soon as we’re both dressed, he takes my hand and leads me out of the bedchamber. I feel heat in my face from the simple intimacy of his hand in mine.

His thumb strokes the back of my hand as he speaks with the Lord Chamberlain about his morning diversion. I don’t know if the man is looking at me or not, because I can’t take my eyes off my own feet.

Alain may have recognized me, but I doubt anyone else would. To them, I am just a sun-beaten peasant holding hands with the king.

I follow him out to the courtyard, where we wait for the stagecoach to be readied and brought around. My head is still swimming with thoughts, and I find my eyes drawn to where our hands are still joined.

I clear my throat. “I should warn you that the farm is on the outskirts, past the city walls. It’s… very rural.”

“I don’t mind,” he says with a smile.

I smile in return, though it’s a bit weaker.

Two pure white horses in full regalia bring the stagecoach to a stop in front of us. Alain keeps moving as if all of this is completely normal, leading me inside and having me sit beside him.

I fidget with the hem of my sleeve. I’m in the nice masquerade garments, and they feel like they’re too tight now. There’s something surreal about sitting next to the king in the royal coach and wearing clothing that seems like it belongs to someone else.

“I still can’t believe any of this is real,” I say, smiling down at my lap.

“Believe it, and believe in me.” His voice is light, but his words are serious.

I shift to press my side against his and squeeze his hand. “I’ll do my best.”

He smiles. “That’s all I ask.”

The ride is a quiet one; I lean against him, watching the countryside pass by. He strokes his fingertips against my palm, little movements that trace nondescript patterns.

Finally, we arrive at the farm, and Alain pushes the door open before the footman can hop off his post at the back of the coach. He looks at everything as though he’s never seen a farm before.

I actually don’t know if he ever has.

“It’s not much,” I say. “But it’s been my home ever since I left the castle.”

He shakes his head. “It’s wonderful. It feels like…” His head moves as he looks around again, then he smiles down at me. “Freedom.”

I start to smile, too, and I feel a little like normal again. The smell of the dirt and animals, the sight of the fields, the cows grazing…

This is home.

“Come on,” I say as I start forward, tugging him along with me. “I want you to meet Cliff.”

We enter the farmhouse to find Cliff in the sitting room. He sits up as soon as the door opens.

“There you are, my boy, how—” He freezes in place when he sees Alain. The only movement are his eyes, which flick between the king, me, and our joined hands. Finally, he focuses on me. “Noah…?”

“This is—I, uh—” I feel my tongue tying itself into knots. “Well…”

“I’m Noah’s partner,” Alain says, smiling.

The two men stare at each other for a moment before Cliff repeats, “Partner?” When I nod, he slumps back against the cushions and says softly, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

I glance at Alain to see his eyes are soft and damp. The smile he gives is so fragile that it trembles, just a bit.

“Thank you,” Alain whispers. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

Cliff relaxes some, enough to wave his hand and give a crooked grin. “My pleasure, Your Majesty. More like he took care of me, though, if I’m being honest.”

Alain chuckles, then turns toward me and kisses my forehead, a light touch of his lips. “Thank you for finding this happiness.”

I don’t know what to say. I take a moment to just breathe, and then I look at Cliff. “This doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to abandon all the work we’ve put in on the farm.”

Cliff looks at me and frowns. “But what about…?” He gestures vaguely to the king.

I rub the back of my neck, glancing at Alain. “One thing at a time.”

Alain nods. “One thing at a time,” he agrees. He turns toward me. “I’ll leave to let you take care of the farm.” His voice lowers to a soft, private tone. “When will you next come to the castle?”

Before I can speak, Cliff interjects, “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll let an old man have some peace and quiet, your Majesty.” There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll have him back to you ʼfore the day is done.”

“I appreciate your generosity,” Alain says with a soft huff of laughter.

I walk with him to the door, and he starts to pull his hand away from mine to leave. I squeeze his fingertips as they move over mine. “We… have a lot to talk about later, I guess.”

He smiles, kissing me quickly and softly on the lips. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he says in a gentle whisper. “I love you.”

I hesitate, and Cliff clears his throat. “Don’t be shy, boy.” I can hear the grin in his voice.

I feel my entire face go hot as I hurriedly kiss Alain back and mumble, “I’ll see you tonight. I love you, too.”

I watch Alain as he walks across the grass, his coat so clean and bright against the dark green grass and brown dirt and occasional flower that still paled by comparison. He climbs into the coach, his eyes not leaving mine until the door is closed and the horses trot forward.

I swallow, not looking at Cliff as I wait for him to speak first.

“You don’t have to keep the farm, you know,” he says.

I twist to face him as I exclaim, “No! I do! I… I don’t know what’s going to happen, but this farm is my home.”

Cliff nods slowly, but I can see the concern in his eyes. “Noah,” he starts to say, but I cut him off.

“I mean it. Whatever happens, I’m not going to abandon this place.” I move closer and kneel down in front of where he still sits. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Cliff reaches out and grips my shoulder. He smiles, and his eyes crinkle closed. “You’re a good lad, Noah.”

I lean in and hug him as tightly as I can without hurting him. He pats my back, then pulls away from the hug.

I rub at my eyes with my palms, then hook an arm around his to help him to his feet. “All right, old man. You need to get to bed and rest. I’ll take care of the chores.”

He moves slowly, but nods. He starts to walk toward his bedroom, then pauses and looks over his shoulder. “I won’t be here next year, you know,” he says, smiling slightly.

“You might be,” I say as my chest grows tight. “You don’t know for certain.”

Cliff shakes his head. “No. But I’m not afraid. Just make sure when it’s your time, you have some good stories to come tell me.”

I watch as he shuffles out of the room, his shoulders hunched and his back bent forward. It’s hard to breathe. The strong man who took me in was fading away.

I hurry outside, the cool air shocking my lungs as I gasp it in. The sky is still a dark navy blue as the sun hovers lazily near the horizon.

I lean against the wall, pressing my forehead against the wooden slats.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to Cliff.

I’m not ready to face reality with Alain.

There is nothing I know for certain except that I know nothing.

I take a deep breath and push off the wall, turning and walking towards the stables.

My fingers curl into a fist. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, but I force myself to take a deep breath and close my eyes. The first thing was to take care of the chores on the farm. Everything else could come later.

I push the door open and walk inside. A few of the cows lean their heads over the doors of their pens to look at me; they know what my arrival means and some of them make cute little happy sounds. The others just stare expectantly.

I fill a bucket from the oats barrel and carry it over to the first stall. I flip the latch on the gate, swinging it open before walking forward. The cow inside lifts her head at my approach, snorting quietly as she chews her cud.

“Hey, girl.” I reach out to rub between her ears. “You wouldn’t believe the day I had yesterday.”

She just blinks at me.

I pour oats into her trough as I continue, “I don’t know what to think. Everything should be perfect now, right? He loves me. He’s loved me all along. But…” I sigh and lean against the paddock wall. “How is any of this going to work?”

The cow has no answer. I’m not sure anyone does.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time I arrive at the castle, the sun has long since departed. I’m so nervous that I nearly talk myself out of it three, maybe four times.

He might have had a busy day, I tell myself. He might just want to sleep. I could always come see him tomorrow.

But I want to see him. So here I am, face-to-face with the same servant who’d found Alain and me in bed together that very same morning.

I’m tired and sweaty from the day’s work. This servant reminds me too much of the old me, with his pale skin and refined features and fair hair. Feelings crawl up the back of my spine, ones I don’t want to recognize by name.

Before I can think too much on them, the servant bows and says with a perfectly cordial smile, “Right this way, Master Noah. The king has been expecting you.”

I clear my throat. “You don’t need to call me Master Noah. Just Noah is fine.”

“Very well, Noah.” He nods, then turns and doesn’t wait for me to follow.

My heart pounds as we walk on in silence. I feel like such a stranger in these halls; I feel like I don’t belong.

I clench and unclench my jaw. “May I ask a question?”

“You just did,” he says dryly, but a smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I snort and look down at my feet. “What do you think of the king having a… relationship with a man? A common man, not even a noble?”

His face scrunches up in thought. “Honestly? I don’t think it’s my place. Or anyone else’s.”

I try not to frown. “No?”

“I only serve his interests.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. He just continues to walk with his arms folded behind his back. “And I see the king’s happiness as a top priority.”

I feel a soft smile force its way onto my lips. “I understand that feeling,” I say, a little fondly.

I remember being a servant, just like him. I remember when I couldn’t fathom putting anything else above my duty to the king.

The smile falls and I clear my throat. “I just hope his advisors will be as understanding.”

“I don’t see why there should be any problem.”

I can think of several, but I don’t have a chance to ask them before I arrive at the doors to the king’s bedchambers. The servant bows and leaves me there, staring at the doors.

My heart pounds.

I know that on the other side is the man I love, but I’m terrified. I can’t move.

What if his advisors weren’t understanding at all? What if this is over when it had barely just begun?

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and knock on the door.

“Come in,” Alain’s voice calls, somewhat muffled and distant.

At first, I don’t see him when I open the door, but after I make it a few more steps into his chambers I hear the rustle of silk and look to see him sitting up in bed.

“Oh, I’m… sorry.” I feel my heart leap into my throat. “I’m sorry, were you already going to bed?” I rub the back of my neck as I stand there, not sure if I should move toward him or leave.

He lifts the covers off the empty space beside him. “No, come here. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I walk forward, my boots thudding against the stone floor. I stop just short of the bed. “I don’t think I washed off well enough to—”

His hand closes around my wrist and he pulls me down onto the bed. “Why so shy, love?” He chuckles as he leans over me, pressing his lips to mine. “Are you not the same man who seduced me not once, but twice at the autumn ball?”

“It’s easier when there’s a mask,” I mumble as I stare up at him. “And when I feel like I have nothing to lose.”

Alain reaches over to grab the hem of my shirt and gently pulls it over my head. “You have nothing to lose now.”

I swallow as my throat goes dry. There’s nothing sexual to the way he begins to undress me, and that is somehow more frightening than if there was. “I have everything to lose now.”

His brow arches as he glances at me, then returns to the awkward stretch he’s doing across the bed to fumble with the laces of my boots. I could help him, but I’m torn between fondness and amusement as I watch him.

Once he’s gotten me undressed, he returns to his spot against the pillows, patting the space he’s left for me. I slide under the covers and his arms wrap around my middle to pull our bodies close together.

“I won’t try to delay the conversation I know you want to have,” he says as he rubs slow circles along my back. “I spent the day discussing everything with my advisors.”

All of my fears return, stronger this time, and I find it suddenly difficult to breathe.

“To get to the point, they all agreed that under no circumstances should I not marry you.”

I react first to what I think he said, my chest growing tight and my throat closing up. Then I realize what he actually said, and look up to see him struggling against a grin.

Of all the things I expected to feel, I wasn’t prepared for the numbness that dulls my normally racing thoughts.

“Apparently,” he continues, “a marriage between us would be… advantageous.” He winces a bit. “In their words—not mine—it allows for the commoners to feel they have a voice without offending the nobility by polluting the bloodline.” His eyes flick over my face and he repeats, “Their words, not mine.”

I stare at him for a moment before I surprise the both of us with a short laugh. “So it would be an alliance with the common folk.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” He gives a small huff of laughter. “I know it isn’t a romantic notion, but they only think of what’s best for the kingdom.” His hand comes up to cradle mine to his chest. “And the people do love a royal wedding.”

“Wedding,” I repeat, then laugh again, though this time with a little bit of a high-pitched squeak.

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “If you’d have me, of course.”

“If I would have you!”

“Your answer can wait for when you remember how to speak without simply repeating what I say,” he teases with a fond chuckle.

I feel like my body is simultaneously falling apart and squeezing tight. It’s a feeling I have no idea what to call.

Is this euphoria? Is this what it feels like to be truly happy?

I’ve grown so used to all my uncertainty that I don’t know what to do without it there to keep me company. I just stare up at him, waiting for something to go wrong.

“An heir,” I gasp out. “What about an heir?”

He blinks. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” I ask, the familiar cold feeling of fear gripping my chest.

“Oh, my sweet Noah.” He shakes his head, smiling. “I already have an heir. My brother had a son three years back.”

And there it goes. The last thing I had to fear was resolved, just like that.

“So—” I frown. “It sounds like everything is… perfect?”

“There is one caveat,” he says, and his gaze darts away. “As prince consort, you would be expected to live at the castle.”

I sigh. I rest my cheek against his chest, and stare at nothing for a while. How could I leave the farm? I had poured literal sweat, tears, and blood into it. I knew each cow by her likes and dislikes. I liked the strength the work had given me.

“What would I do all day?” I ask. “I don’t know if I can live without having work to do. I like the farm, the soil, the animals…” I shake my head. “I don’t know if I have what it takes to be a prince, consort or otherwise.”

“I think you’d be surprised.” His voice is low and soothing as I feel each word rumble in his chest. “I think the people would appreciate a man of the earth at my side. You can understand their life better than I ever could. As for the rest…”

He hums and moves to hover over me, gazing down into my eyes. His face, which is all I can see in this moment, is nothing but serious.

“We have a stable. Twelve horses. I will give them all to you if it might bring you some comfort. They aren’t cows and chickens, but they are here.” His lips twitch into a soft smile. “You could even learn to ride, and we could take them into the countryside.”

I feel the weight of his words press on my chest.

He wants me to say yes.

More than that, he wants me.

The dreaded ‘what if’ returns. What if his advisors are wrong? What if he’s wrong? What if the people can’t accept us? Or, worst of all… what if Alain discovers the reality of being together is much less appealing than the fantasy?

“You always think so much,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Stop thinking for one moment and just tell me how you feel.”

For some reason, that brings tears to my eyes. “How I feel?” I choke on the words as I say, “I feel like I can’t possibly say no.”

His eyes light up and his lips twitch into a brief smile. “Then say yes.”

I want to. Gods, I want to.

And when I think of Cliff and how I can’t abandon him, I hear his words.

‘Just make sure when it’s your time, you have some good stories to come tell me.’

I finally allow myself to feel a little hope. I start to smile. “Would it be possible to bring Cliff here? I know he’ll balk, but I’d feel better if he was nearby.”

He quickly nods. “Of course.”

I feign another long moment of thought, but my mind is already in agreement with my heart, for once. I sigh and look up at him with a serious frown. “Will you make me wear a dress to the wedding?”

His brow quirks as he grins. “Well, now that you mention it, I do think it would look nice.”

“Hardly!” I nod my head down at myself. “I’m not the little servant I was.”

“No, you certainly aren’t,” he says as his eyes roam for a moment. Then he leans in and kisses the skin below my ear. “But perhaps we’ll save the dresses for more intimate affairs.”

His lips part, and his teeth graze my earlobe. I shiver as a thrill runs up and down my spine. One of his arms snakes around my waist, and he lowers himself to lay on top of me. The weight of him is strangely comforting; I’m trapped between him and the bed, and I’ve never felt safer.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he kisses my cheek. “So very much.”

I pause. I’m not supposed to think, but I don’t know if I can ever stop the questions that worry me. “Why do you?” I look up at him when he pulls his head back. “I mean, well, why did you love me when I was just another one of your servants?”

“You were different.” He smiles, his eyes darting to the side as he thinks back. “You didn’t blindly follow orders. Sometimes, you would do something just because. Little things. Like arrange the flowers in my chambers after you caught me fussing with them.”

I feel a bit of embarrassment color my cheeks. “I realized that you didn’t like it when the larger blooms dwarf the smaller ones.”

“Or how you always seemed to know which type of tea I needed most on any given day. I never had to request a strong black tea when I had long meetings ahead, or something with lavender when I was particularly stressed.”

I sigh and turn my head to the side, though I can’t help smiling. “So you love me because I was a dutiful servant.”

“No, but it made me notice you from the others.” He reaches down and takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him again. “I found myself looking for you. Thinking of you. Wondering if you only saw me as a king, or if you saw the man beneath the crown. I always was prone to flights of fancy as a child, but I thought I’d grown past all of that.

“And then you came along, and I found myself dreaming again. The day you approached me at the ball, dressed as a woman, was the day my fantasy became a reality.”

I feel tears rushing to my eyes and I blink rapidly to try to keep them at bay. “Why did you never say anything?”

His gaze dips. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” My brow furrows. “Of what?”

“You. This.” He gestures between us. “I thought that if I said anything, you would disappear. That your feelings weren’t real, that I was simply imagining the way you looked at me because I wanted to see it.”

He puts his palm against the side of my face, cradling it. I lean into the touch, and all at once my fears and doubts don’t seem so important.

“Okay,” I whisper.

His head tilts. “Okay?”

I reach up and pull him back down on top of me and smile against his cheek. “Okay. I’ll marry you.”

I can feel his smile in response before he rolls over, pulling me on top of him and hugging me tight to his chest. Neither of us say anything as we lay there in each other’s arms, because nothing needed to be said.

**Author's Note:**

> ❤️ Thank you for reading! Every kudo means the world to me.  
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